“Hey,” Olivia reached across the table and took her hand, cutting her off before she could talk herself out of it. Her fingertips were soft as she rubbed her thumb back and forth across the back of Hilary’s hand. “It is absolutely fine if that’s what you have to do.”
“Does it bother you?” Hilary asked, a shadow of seriousness suddenly dropping down over them.
Olivia frowned, clearly not understanding the question.
“What I do, for a living, I mean don’t get me wrong I am beyond happy that you wanted to go on a date with me, I just…you’re real classy and you clearly come from...”
Now Olivia got it. “You think because you’re a dancer that I would what? Look down my nose at you?” She realised that she was still holding Hilary’s hand and she withdrew it slowly, feeling a little vulnerable.
“Well, when you put it like that, no.” Hilary laughed shakily. Olivia was far from a stuck-up snob even if she did dress like a Beverly Hills rich bitch. “But you gotta admit that it’s not the ideal job.”
Olivia sighed; she hadn’t even really considered Hilary’s job. “I used to get paid to walk up and down a catwalk in my underwear, pretending that what I did meant something important. At least you, you’re honest about what you do. You get undressed and dance for money. I got undressed and persuaded myself it was for art, for fashion, but all I have to show for it is the money.”
“Hold on.” Hilary squinted as she quickly went over what she already knew about Olivia. “You said you worked for a modelling agency, not that you were a model.”
“Oh God, I forgot I hadn’t told you that. It was a long time ago.” Olivia hung her head with embarrassment. The waiter appeared and saved her blushes for now by removing their empty plates. He inquired if they would like to see the dessert menu and both agreed they absolutely would and that they would like another bottle of wine to go with it.
“It can’t have been that long ago. I mean, just look at you.”
“There you go again throwing out those compliments, which by the way, I am lapping up over here!” Olivia giggled.
She felt good. It had been a long time since anyone she was attracted to had noticed her. Ava had stopped telling her she was beautiful; often the only comments were negative reminders of things she “needed to change.” She hadn’t felt like she had needed to change anything, except maybe Ava.
It was still relatively early when they finished dessert, and neither felt ready to call it a night just yet.
They took a cab and headed towards Malibu. As it pulled into the kerb, Olivia jumped out and reached into her pocket, but Hilary insisted on paying and handed over a twenty. It felt nice to be taken care of for a change, Olivia thought. Whenever Ava had paid, it had always been with a hint of showing off. But Hilary didn’t make anything of it. She just paid and climbed out of the car.
“So, where to next?” she asked.
Taking her by the arm, Olivia led them towards the entrance of a small building right in front of them. “One of my friends was raving about this place,”
It was busy.
A lot of people stood at the bar. Hardly a seat was empty. Hilary looked around and noticed a couple of celebrities sitting together in one of the booths, but looked away when she felt fingers linked with her own, and she was pulled further into the throng as Olivia headed towards the bar. It took a while to get served, time Hilary enjoyed, pressed up against Olivia as more people piled in the door behind them.
Finally, Olivia handed her a beer.
By the time Olivia had ordered their third beer, there was barely any room to move away, and so they stayed at the bar. One elbow leaning on the counter, bottles in hand. It was loud. Music as well as the chatter of raised voices around them meant they needed to keep leaning in, the space between them reducing each time. It didn’t feel intrusive. Maybe it was the alcohol, or just the attraction, but neither disliked where this was heading. Hilary’s right hand rested easily on Olivia’s hip, her fingers gently moving as she spoke.
“I’ve really enjoyed this.”
Hilary’s breath against her ear along with the wandering fingers was turning Olivia on, and she liked it.
“I think I am done with drinking,” Olivia shouted loud enough for Hilary to hear. She downed the last mouthful of beer before taking Hilary’s hand and tugging her back through the crowd. Pushing open the door, the fresh air hit them both and as she turned, Hilary tripped and fell against her.
“Oops, sorry.” She giggled, the alcohol racing through her and giving her a good buzz. As she straightened up and their eyes met, she said, “You are so pretty.”
“And you really are drunk.” Olivia giggled, but it didn’t stop her from taking both of Hilary’s hands in her own and linking their fingers. “I have had a really great time, Hilary.”
“Me too. I mean, I liked you on the plane,” Hilary admitted, smiling like an idiot. “I thought maybe I annoyed you though.”
“You did. But it wasn’t your fault.” Olivia laughed and tugged her closer. “I like you, Hilary.” She let go of her hands, and for an instant Hilary thought it was the biggest loss of her life, until she felt Olivia’s hands settle on her shoulders. It wasn’t that long before they slid up and over, around her neck, and Olivia’s lips met her own, soft, gentle, and intent on accomplishing their mission. Hilary succumbed instantly. There would be no fight from her to stop this. She smiled into it and let Olivia move the pace.
It was only the catcalling and whoops of encouragement of a passing group that caused the kiss to break. Foreheads resting against each other, they both laughed at the cheering interruption.
Chapter Seventeen
Friday night was rapidly becoming the biggest earner for Hilary. She now had a group of regulars. One of the biggest tippers was a group of straight women who left their rich husbands at home for the weekend in order to live it up with the gays.
A couple of them were clearly a little bicurious, and it amused Hilary no end when they would start to flirt with her. She might have played up on it a little, but the perks were good. Dollar bills turned into ten-dollar bills, and that was all it was about for Hilary. Anyway, she already had a beautiful woman keeping her fantasies busy.
Of course, she was going to be starting her courses in the next month and at that point, she would scale back her dancing on Thursdays, meaning she would only dance Fridays and Saturdays. So she wanted to earn as much as possible now in order to keep her bank account healthy enough to get her through, because if she did well and passed these courses, that was when the really hard work would start.
So, she twirled and smiled and gyrated and let the women and a few men slip their dollar bills into the waistband of her shorts while she fantasised about a tall, pouting, full-lipped, kissable and stunning Olivia Copeland.
~MB~
Olivia was debating whether to go to the club. She knew that Hilary would be dancing later, and the thought of sitting back in a private booth and watching her from a short distance enthralled her. The idea of being somewhat a voyeur and enjoying the show was compelling, especially when she then considered the idea of a private dance, just for her.
But then her mother had called. She wanted Olivia to join her and Joan at the country club on Wilshere to discuss last-minute birthday party plans. At least that was the excuse, but Olivia knew it was just a ploy to get her to spend some time with them. Spending time with them was perfectly fine; it was the country club that she hated, with all its stuffy rules about what she could and couldn’t wear. And she couldn’t even use the excuse of having Gracie and it being far too late to keep her out till, because Gracie had a sleep over with a new friend. Which was why Olivia now found herself standing outside the country club dining room.
She followed the concierge in and around several tables before she heard her mother, and then she saw them sitting together in the corner like naughty school children. Joan noticed her first and stood to greet her. “Olivia. It’s so lovely to see you,
Darling. How are you?”
“Hi, Aunt Joan. It is good to see you too.” She leaned in and kissed her cheeks. “I have been well, thank you. You? Mother tells me that you have been offered a role in a big show.” She turned then to greet her mother in the same way.
“Oh, she exaggerates as usual, but yes, it will be good to dust off the old brain cells and do some work for a change.” She laughed like only Aunt Joan could. It was loud and hearty, and you couldn’t fail to smile. “It’s so good to see you,” Joan repeated, sincerity in every word. She reached out and grabbed her hand. “How long are you staying this time? Your mother is being very secretive about it.”
“Oh.” She had expected her mother to have told Joan all about it; they told each other everything. “Well, actually I am home for good this time.”
Joan tilted her head a little and squinted her eyes. “Really? That is wonderful. It’s such a delight to spend time getting to know Gracie. She is the image of you. I suppose young Ava will be arriving any time soon then?”
She caught her mother’s eye and was unsure what to say for a second, so she went with the truth.
“Actually no, we broke up. Ava has some…” She searched for the word. “…issues she needs to work on.”
“Oh, I am sorry dear. Cynthia, why didn’t you say something? I feel such a fool.”
Cynthia sipped her wine before saying, “It wasn’t my place, and anyway, you’re always a fool, so what difference does today make?” She grinned at her friend, who playfully slapped her arm. “You do look happier without her,” Cynthia then said, turning back to Olivia.
“Cyn, I’m not so sure she needs to hear the ‘I told you so’s right now,” Joan admonished.
“It’s fine, Joan. Mother is right, I am happier.”
Food was served and drinks refilled when finally, the topic of conversation moved away from Olivia starting anew now that she was home, to the matter at hand: the party. Cynthia was going to be 55 this weekend, and so the party had a ‘50s theme. Thankfully, it wasn’t fancy dress, but she knew that wouldn’t stop some of her mother’s more outrageous friends from playing the part. Her mother’s parties were always fun. In all honesty, she was looking forward to it, even more so now that Hilary had agreed to come along.
“I uh, invited a friend tomorrow night, I hope that is okay?” Olivia said, speaking to her mother between bites of roasted squash and pine nut salad.
“Of course dear, anyone we know?” Cynthia inquired with a subtle side-eye glance at Joan. The knowing look of and now we know why she’s happier passed between them both.
“No, she’s a new friend actually,” she said quickly, taking a sip of her drink to hide the blush behind the glass. There was something special about Hilary, something she wasn’t quite ready to share with everyone else just yet though. Her mind wandered back to the other night, the end of their date and the kiss.
A really good kiss.
“Her name’s Hilary, we met on the plane actually.”
Joan picked an olive from the bowl and nibbled around the stone. “Is she nice?”
Olivia frowned somewhat, “Of course she’s nice.” But then she remembered Ava.
She was nice once too.
Chapter Eighteen
It was arranged. 7.30 P.M. Outside of Proton, Hilary would wait for Olivia to pick her up. She got there early and read through some notes she had made for her course. There was so much more to learn; things changed fast in the medical field.
When Olivia arrived, Hilary was so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t notice her, which was fine by Olivia, as it meant she could spend a minute just looking her over.
She looked cute in a long flowing skirt that reached her ankles, very much in the fifties style, but with a newer century feel to it. She had then added a plain white blouse. Her hair was up high on her head, a few intentional wisps pulled free. Olivia liked the look and tried not to think about the ease of her hairstyle for leaving and heading back here later that night.
She gave a quick toot with the horn and Hilary looked up, a little startled, but she soon smiled as she realised it was Olivia.
“Hey,” she said, climbing into the car with a smile to greet Olivia. “I wasn’t sure what to—”
“You look great!” Olivia jumped in, wanting to put her at ease before the night began. She hadn’t told Hilary anything about her mother, or her friends and what to expect at the party. Maybe she should have, but to do so now would put even more pressure on her, wouldn’t it?
“Thank you, and you look, well, you look stunning, Olivia,” Hilary offered, because she did look stunning in a white summer dress that showed off tanned arms and stopping just above the knee; she had tanned legs too. It was a vintage 1950s Chanel dress that she had borrowed from her mother at the last minute. “Not what you bought at the store though,” grinned Hilary.
“I know, I panicked last minute and borrowed this from my mother instead.”
“Well, next time you want to just be undressed with me, you don’t have to worry about the shopping part, not if you can just borrow this from your mom.”
Olivia grinned. “When I want you to see me undressed, I will be sure to tell you.”
They arrived without much fuss. Traffic had been kind, and as they pulled up to the automatic gates, Hilary couldn’t help but gasp at the magnitude of the house.
“Wow, this house is amazing.”
“It certainly is. I loved growing up here.” She smiled across at Hilary as the gates opened far enough to drive through. They were in a huge courtyard with a fountain as its centre piece. Cars were parked neatly everywhere as a valet appeared at her side and took the keys from her. Hilary opened her door, wide-eyed and, if she was honest, a little intimidated. She had never been inside any of the houses in Beverly Hills before. This was monumental in the life of Hilary Palmer. Hadn’t she always assumed Olivia came from this side of the tracks? Why was she so shocked? Because, she had never assumed this. That was why.
She was so engrossed in her surroundings, she hadn’t noticed that Olivia had moved around the car to be at her side, or that the valet had driven the car away.
The house was magnificent, with columns that reached the height of the two stories and huge arched windows that nestled between ornate carvings in the stonework.
She had been so immersed in her desire to see everything that she hadn’t even noticed her hand being held by Olivia, who stood watching her, smiling.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just…I didn’t expect the house you lived in to be this big, it’s like a movie star’s home.” She chuckled and then very quickly pulled herself together. “Okay, I will try not to embarrass you.”
“Hil, you could never embarrass me.” Olivia spoke earnestly, and Hilary enjoyed the way she had shortened her name again. It was intimate, familiar, and she liked that Olivia felt comfortable enough to do it.
Olivia turned and began to walk toward the hugely impressive oak double doors. Hilary dutifully followed, and decided just for one evening to allow herself to dream she could belong in this world.
But the moment she set foot inside and was set upon by waiters and waitresses who mingled among the guests carrying silver trays laden with crystal glasses filled with champagne, she wasn’t so confident that this world was ready for her.
As one of them passed them by, Olivia reached out and grabbed two glasses, handing one to Hilary, who took a large nerve-settling gulp immediately.
The interior of the property was as magnificent as the outside. Ornate carvings and artwork adorned staircases and walls. The plasterwork mouldings were exquisite. As she looked around and noticed the people, she realised that she was surrounded by men and women whose faces she recognised.
“Relax, it’s just a party,” Olivia reassured her, her eyes scanning the room for her mother. She raised a hand and waved when her daughter popped into view.
Gracie ran across the room the moment she saw them. “Mummy, you
got her!” she said excitedly. Olivia bent down to pick her up, hoisting her onto her left hip.
“I did, yes. I told you I would.” Olivia turned to Hilary. “She’s been talking about you to anyone who will listen from the moment she knew you were coming.”
“Oh, well it’s nice to have a fan.” Hilary grinned at the youngster. “How are you, Gracie?” The kid looked super cute in her dungarees, and the t-shirt beneath that had a big rainbow on the front.
“I am well, thank you. I’m just Grace now, Gracie was when I was a baby,” she answered, deadly serious. The pout was almost comical, and Hilary was sure this was probably how Olivia had looked at that age.
“Okay, I can get with that.” Hilary smiled. She watched as Olivia’s face lit up, her attention taken with someone else on the far side of the room. She waved across at them.
Turning back to Hilary, she reached for her hand and said, “I want you to meet my mother.”
It was in that moment, as she was being tugged across the room, that Hilary realised just who it was that was waving back.
“Holy shit. You…Your mother is—” Before she could finish that sentence, Cynthia Copeland was standing in front of her, kissing her daughter’s cheek.
“No naughty words, Hilary,” Grace reprimanded in all seriousness. The pout had now become more exaggerated.
“Sorry, you’re right, Grace. Bad Hilary.”
“Mother, this is my friend, Hilary. Hilary, my mother, Cynthia Copeland.”
Cynthia smiled at the woman’s reaction. She clearly had no idea what kind of party she had been invited to. “How wonderful to meet you, Hilary. I do hope my daughter is keeping you suitably entertained.” She winked and had a smile of mischief aimed at Olivia, who was blushing furiously.
“Oh yes, she absolutely is.” Hilary smiled nervously, “It’s an honour to meet you, I have read so much about you.”
“All of it lies, child,” Cynthia said dramatically while Olivia rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan. “It’s all much, much worse.” Cynthia laughed and drew attention to them all instantly.
Model Behavior Page 9
